by Neha Yazmin
Aaryana had waited in her rooms for Rozlene or Erisa to come knocking, to determine what she knew about Erisa’s hair colour, but neither had turned up. Then, it was time to meet with Wyett and his father, and before long, she found herself witnessing wildfire illuminating the starless sky. Bright orange, red, and yellow flames were devouring the heavens, silently scorching the clouds, and she seemed to be the only one that could see it.
However, it turned out that she wasn’t the only one that was aware of the unnerving display. She was definitely the only one that was afraid of it.
“And you think that the flaming feathers are proof that the world is about to end?” Wyett had asked with a smirk and a shake of the head when she’d pointed at the sky and declared that it was on fire.
“Flaming feathers?” She had narrowed her eyes at him, demanding clarification.
Wyett turned his back to her, not appreciating the authority in her stare, and tilted his head up at the blazing sky. “We see this in the north at the end of our summers and autumns,” he told her, as casual as though he was talking about the weather.
Too casual, she thought, too indifferent.
“Some say it’s the fire angel preparing for the colder seasons and growing himself extra feathers for his wings. Feathers made of eternal fire.”
He shook his head. She suspected he was rolling his eyes, too. Aaryana had been just as sceptical when Quin suggested that the fire angel had breathed out the sun.
“Others say that it’s actually comets,” he went on, “exploding from the heat of the summer sun.” He turned to face her and said, “Those are not real flames, though it definitely looks like it. It scared me when I first saw it as a child—but not as much as it terrified you.
“But then, I’d been told what to expect. I’d waited up to see it. You had no clue. And I’d never heard of a prophecy about the world ending in fire and water…”
“So, everyone is accustomed to it?” she’d said to change the subject. “That’s why no one is outside, watching…”
“Well, the novelty wears off after a decade or so.” Wyett shrugged. “People used to celebrate these nights that marked the end of summer, and stayed up late to watch the feathers grow, but not anymore. Though, there may be one or two children seeing them for the first time tonight, just as you are.”
“And it happens every year?” she asked.
“Every year,” he confirmed. “And the world hasn’t burned out yet.” He gave her a mocking smile. Of course, he wasn’t going to forget about her outburst so easily. “Where in the world did you get that idea from?”
“I don’t see why I should tell you,” Aaryana said, folding her arms across her chest and turning her back to him. “No one in Roshdan tells me about the Island’s strange miracles. I don’t see why I should tell you about Adgar’s.”
“People in Adgar believe that the world will drown and the sky will catch fire?” he asked, a note of scepticism in his tone. He was probably smirking, too. She supposed it was better than being sneered or growled at by him.
“No, of course, they don’t.” She spun around to face him. Yes, he seemed to be mocking her and her home Island. “It’s something that I heard about from a Khadaki, actually.”
“Prince Tyross?” Wyett asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Maybe,” she replied in a way that would make him think that the answer was yes.
It had actually been Parth and Farzah that had referred to this prediction of the end of the world.
“Why does it matter who told me about the prophecy? You obviously think it’s stupid.”
“I do.”
“Well then, leave Ty out of it.”
“Ty?” Wyett narrowed his eyes in confusion. Aaryana kept quiet. “Oh. Prince Tyross—you called him Ty. I see.” He nodded to himself, before suddenly widening his eyes. “Don’t tell me he vied for your affections, too?” He rolled his eyes. “But didn’t he criticise your taste in jewellery? That couldn’t have helped his cause.” He chuckled and shook his head.
Aaryana was surprised that he remembered that.
“It’s interesting, don’t you think,” Wyett murmured when Aaryana refused to comment, “that it’s only Princes that don’t know how to charm women that show an interest in you? And Combat Masters, of course.”
“Well, I don’t see you charming anyone that has a heartbeat!” Aaryana snapped—she couldn’t stop herself, not when he’d brought Rudro into it. “I doubt you have a single charming bone in your body. You couldn’t even pretend to be charming on the King’s orders!”
His eyes flashed. “How dare you speak to me like that?” he growled.
His fingers curled into fists and his body tensed. He seemed to be shifting into a crouch, a beast about to pounce. The flames in the sky seemed to absorb his anger and burned so bright that it was suddenly as bright as day. Gasping, Aaryana and Wyett lifted their heads to the near-white sky, and within seconds, the fire dimmed, glowing softly once again.
She sighed with relief and looked down at the grass, almost expecting it to have been scorched to dust. But of course, it wasn’t. Wyett’s eyes were narrowed when she met his gaze, his breathing slow but deep. Keeping his temper in check. The temper she didn’t mind stoking right then.
“I’m so sorry, Your Highness,” she said sarcastically, holding her hands to her chest in a dramatic fashion. “Please don’t tell the King that I retaliated when you mocked my friends and insinuated that I am unworthy of love. I don’t think he will ever forgive me.”
She spun around and stalked off towards the castle.
Wyett followed, bellowing, “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you!”
She stopped and twisted around, almost colliding with him. He stepped back and opened his mouth—to shout some more, most likely—but she spoke first.
“Fine, talk,” she hissed under her breath so the night guards at the castle doors wouldn’t hear; they were almost within earshot. Wyett was clearly too furious to care about that. “But don’t tell me that there’s something wrong with me, because I know,” she said through clenched teeth. “And the people that love me, there’s something even more wrong with them. I know that, too, so there’s no need for you to waste your breath and tell me.”
Wyett pointed a threatening finger at her and started saying something, but she continued over him. He snapped his mouth shut, enraged.
“But here’s something you might not know, Your Highness: People like Rudro and Ty, they know deep down that I will never be theirs, and that’s why they’d rather pine after me instead of someone attainable. They’re scared of love, scared of giving their hearts away, so they prefer to love someone they can’t have, rather than someone that will have them.
“So, you see, it might not be me that has a problem, but the men that love me. They’re cowards.”
She realised too late that she’d screamed the last two words—in fact, her voice had been rising leading up to that moment, her fingers curled into fists, her body shaking, her lips twisted into a disgusted shape. She was surprised by the frustration in her words. Was that how she felt—frustrated by the cowardly men that wanted her?
Wyett was speechless, his eyes wide and lips slightly parted. She could tell he was too mad to speak; his body was trembling just as much as hers was from rage.
Seconds passed, the two of them staring fire at one another. Until Aaryana decided that she didn’t want to be angry anymore. It did her no good. She let a cooling stream of water wash away her fury, and soon, it seemed to put out Wyett’s flames, too.
He closed his mouth and swallowed. He didn’t threaten to kill her or tell her to leave his sight. He just strode back inside the Palace without a word. Aaryana remained in the gardens for a minute longer, watching the miraculous fire burning where stars ought to be sparkling.
Once back in her bedchamber, it wasn’t Wyett’s anger or her frustration that haunted her. It was the fire in the sky. She wasn’t surprised that she
ended up dreaming about eternal fire eating its way through Adgar, the Royal Palace nothing but a mountain of ash. She even thought she heard her mother’s voice, urging her to put out the fire. But Aaryana had no idea where she was in the dream—how could she have doused an entire Island on fire, anyway?
As she pulled herself out of bed and walked to the north-facing window of her room, the morning sky pale-blue and flameless, she realised why she’d been missing from her own nightmare: She wasn’t in Adgar anymore. How could she save her homeland when she was all the way out here in the north, the home of eternal fire and the adopted home of Nidiya?
Her mother had found Aaryana in the depths of the sea and warned her about Adgar drowning in the ocean or burning to ash. Kanona had sent her the same message through a little child on Aaryana’s last day in Adgar. What had made her think that Adgar was in danger? How was she alive and capable of staying away from her family—what had forced her to leave them? Everyone believed her dead…
She shook her head and and went into the bathing chamber. She had realised some time ago that she’d never be able to uncover the truth just by thinking about this baffling mystery. She would only do that when she returned to Adgar and tracked down her mother.
One thing was for certain, though: Kanona wasn’t the only Nidiyan Aaryana knew. Perhaps it was time to revisit the Nidiyans and see if they knew anything about the prophecy. Today would not be that day, however. It couldn’t be—she hadn’t planned or prepared for a trip to the icy mountains. After her last journey there, she knew there was much to consider before visiting her fellow Nidiyans.
Besides, she had to stay in the Palace today, specifically in her chambers, so that she’d be ready when Erisa and Rozlene finally found a way to come talk to her without being followed by their numerous guards. Mother and daughter would come, she was sure of it.
Maybe she was wrong? Maybe she’d overestimated the significance of what she knew? Maybe Rozlene and Erisa didn’t care what Aaryana did with this information and that’s why mother and daughter hadn’t tried to speak to her all day?
The two women had come to breakfast, lunch, and dinner today—marking their permanent return to Court—and seemed cool and calm as they continued to catch up on what they’d missed. After each meal, Aaryana had promptly returned to her rooms, giving them the opportunity to follow her there or come knocking on her door afterwards.
They didn’t do either of those things.
In fact, it appeared as though the last thing they wanted was to be anywhere near Aaryana. They sat between Lisbeth and their other friends at the table, not leaving empty seats directly next to them, and entered and left the hall surrounded by Courtiers.
Erisa in particular, had acted as though Aaryana wasn’t in the same room, a stark contrast to how persistent she’d been last night at dinner, when she was trying to ascertain what Aaryana knew about her hair colour.
All this was being carefully scrutinised by the Crown Prince. Wyett had watched the three of them closely during all three feasts. Who knew what he made of their behaviour? If he thought Aaryana was retreating to her rooms to avoid him, that was perfectly fine with her. She didn’t really care what he thought of her right now, and it wasn’t as freeing as she thought it would be.
Strangely enough, it didn’t feel right, felt like she ought to placate him. She didn’t understand the contradicting emotions, and didn’t have time to waste on figuring it out. If she wasn’t making preparations for her trip to the Nidiyan Mountains tomorrow morning—gathering and packing supplies as inconspicuously as possible—she was going over what she’d say when Rozlene and Erisa turned up.
It was just as she’d finished packing her saddlebags for tomorrow that she heard a knock on her front door. She had sort of expected them to come once everyone had gone to bed. Shoving her supplies under her bed, she exited the bedroom and shut the door behind her. She untied her ponytail and ruffled her new black hair to give the impression that she’d been asleep. She was already in her short, flimsy nightgown, so there would be no reason for anyone to suspect that she’d been getting ready to ride up north the next day.
With half-open eyes, she opened the door, mumbling a sleepy “Yes?”
Then: “Oh, it’s you!” Wide awake now, she leaped back; her grip on the doorknob loosened and the door slammed shut.
On the Crown Prince of Roshdan!
Aaryana cupped her mouth. She couldn’t believe she’d shut the door on Wyett’s face. Unintentionally, yes, but he would be livid just the same. So much for wanting to placate him! Her heartbeat sped up even more when she saw the doorknob twisting. He’s going to come in! Or stand at the threshold and yell at her. While she was dressed in this stupid nightgown that barely reached her thighs and left her limbs completely exposed. She didn’t want him to see her like this.
Admittedly, she’d been particularly harsh on him since the day he’d roasted her for sitting next to Quin at lunch, and that was because she wanted him to understand how deeply words could cut, how belittling they could be. She wanted to hurt him so that he’d stop hurting her as he got a taste of his own medicine. But she didn’t want to attack him with anything other than words. Seeing her half-naked body wouldn’t be good for him.
Before the door opened more than a few inches, Aaryana spun around and ran back into the bedchamber. She had to pull on the silk robe that came with this gown—she’d left it on her pillow, ready to grab when Erisa and Rozlene arrived. She had pictured herself telling the women to sit in the lounge and excusing herself to go “grab something to make me more presentable.” Now, she was slipping into the robe to make herself more bearable to Wyett.
Well, slipping into was a generous description of what she was attempting—in her haste to cover herself up and go apologise to Wyett for letting the door close on him, she was struggling to find the right armholes for each arm, wrestling with the fabric as though she wished to tear it, not wear it. When she saw that she’d put it on backwards, the wrestling recommenced. She may have stretched the stitching in places as she finally corrected it and wrapped the front of the robe across her chest and stomach.
She took a deep breath and turned around, taking the ends of the tie at the waist to secure it in place.
“Oh, woah!” She jumped and her heart jumped with her.
Wyett was standing on the threshold of her bedroom! Her hands flew to her mouth, inadvertently letting go of the robe. It parted like curtains around her body.
“You scared me!”
He really had; her heart was racing, her breathing was uneven, and her knees were wobbly. So, that’s how it feels when someone sneaks up on you.
“What do you mean, ‘Oh, it’s you’?” he asked, eyes narrowed and looking straight at hers.
“What?”
Aaryana swallowed down her ragged breaths and adjusted her robe with shaky hands. She wrapped her arms around her middle, just in case she hadn’t tied it properly.
“Who were you expecting?” Wyett asked, scanning the bedroom. “Dressed like that?” he added as he looked her up and down.
“No one,” she replied, her voice a little high. “I wasn’t expecting anybody.”
“I think you were.” He took a few steps towards her, suspicion evident on his face, eyes threatening. “When you said, ‘Oh, it’s you’, it sounded like you were expecting someone—”
“I wasn’t—”
“—or at least hoping.”
He had walked right up to her now, a mad and menacing look in his eyes. His nostrils flared, as though he could smell the lie on her lips.
“No, Your Highness,” she assured him, her recently calmed heart beating hard once again. “I just wasn’t expecting you.”
He cocked his head, and she took a step back. Only to hit the edge of the bed behind her. The impact caused her to lose her balance and she plopped down on the mattress, her heart throbbing against her throat. She tried to swallow it down. It didn’t work. Wyett was glaring down at her, hi
s face unreadable.
“Please,” she found herself croaking up at him and cleared her throat. “Your Highness, I wasn’t waiting for anyone. I was asleep.”
That reminded her that her hair was in disarray. She smoothed it down, relieved to have something to do with her hands besides hugging herself. Relieved to look away from Wyett’s eyes boring into her own.
“You don’t sleep before our meetings,” he pointed out.
“I do sometimes,” she told him, flicking her eyes up at him.
“Dressed like that?”
“Sometimes.” Aaryana swallowed.
“Then, you change back into what you’d been wearing to dinner and head to the eastern tower for the meeting?” he asked sceptically.
“Sometimes.” She looked down at her lap.
“Sometimes, I don’t believe a single word that comes out of your mouth,” he said, voice deadly quiet.
He knew she was hiding something. She had to distract him. Get rid of him. What if Erisa and Rozlene showed up whilst he was here?
“And at other times?” she asked, getting to her feet and squaring up to him.
She wasn’t much shorter than him, and as she stood on her tiptoes, she was nose-to-nose with him. If it drove him out faster, all the better. Aaryana held her ground and dared him to shout at her.
He didn’t. He started answering her question. “At other times I want to...”
“What?” she probed when he didn’t complete his sentence.
For the briefest moment, Wyett’s eyes flicked to her lips, but it was so quick that she thought she’d imagined it.
“What is happening between you and Erisa?”
“Huh?” It wasn’t just his words that surprised her, but his tone, too. It was formal, devoid of emotion.
Of course, that’s the question he’d come to ask, but she wasn’t anticipating it at that precise moment. Then again, he could have waited until they’d met in his father’s office in an hour’s time to ask her this. There really wasn’t any reason for him to come to her chambers.
